


Match-made

by MintChocolateLeaves



Category: Camp Camp (Web Series)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Humor, Married Characters, Swearing, soft
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-18
Updated: 2019-07-18
Packaged: 2020-07-08 05:34:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19864324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MintChocolateLeaves/pseuds/MintChocolateLeaves
Summary: Whilst spying on David one day, trying to come up with new ways to break him, Max, Nikki and Neil come to realise that the man is... married? But - of course not. There's no way that could be true. It's - it'sDavid.Who would marry him? It seems like they're going to have to figure it out.





	Match-made

**Author's Note:**

> Started watching camp camp. Decided to write this. I just find the concept kinda funny, kinda cute, so like. Enjoy? Maybe?

It had been just another one of those boring days at camp trying to keep themselves entertained. Skipping out on awful camp activities with poor, crappy resources, and trying to come up with an adventure of their own was nothing short from normal for them.

Nikki had wanted something more fun, Neil had wanted something a little less mind-numbing, and quite honestly, Max just wanted _out._

Any time away from David and that overbearing intensity would be a godsend, and so leaving behind the god-awful cross-stitching camp hadn’t been a difficult decision to make.

Sure, they’d have to deal with David’s poor attempts at scolding them later, but they were going to have to hear it whether they disappeared for the day or not. The counsellor had a habit of calling them out on every ‘inappropriate’ thing. For swearing, for being mean, or cruel, or whatever else fell outside of overbearingly happy children.

Newsflash David, you’re telling kids to stop being _fucking kids._

Either way, they just needed to get away from him for a while. To be in a David-free zone for just a little longer than the eight hours they slept.

“I miss Saturdays,” Nikki said, finally, as if the day had been cancelled. As if it wasn’t _Monday,_ and they hadn’t only just had the weekend to themselves. “We always get to go into the forest on Saturdays.”

Well, technically they were in the forest now – all the fucking time, really, since they were stuck at this shitty camp – but they were allowed to roam a little further during the weekends.

“We go into the forest all the week,” Neil said, tone bordering on a whine, “I want it to be Saturday so I can go on a computer without someone telling me I’m being antisocial.”

Max shrugs his head, jumps over a log in the pathway and says, “You know why you guys miss Saturdays so much?”

He phrases it by a question, but really, he doesn’t want them to offer any answers. He just wants his friends to wait for the answer, to anticipate the scheme that might be forming in his head.

“I just said why _I_ missed Saturdays,” Nikki says.

“Because the adults don’t have to spend all their time with us,” Max says. “Because we’re not stuck doing shitty activities, and the counsellors leave us the _fuck alone_ as long as we’re not murdering each other.”

Nikki nods emphatically, and for a moment, it’s almost possible to see the memories of last weekend swimming through her eyes. Possible to see how they’d been left alone for a full day until she tried to throw Space-kid across the lake in the mechanised sling-shot she’d had Neil help her make.

“There’s no way we can stop that though,” Neil says after a while, and from the way his nose scrunches, it’s clear that the boy has spent time trying to figure out ways to achieve more computer time, but so far, has come up short. “We’re lucky we only have to do five days a week of activities.”

That’s alright, Max is more of the diabolical genius of the three of them anyway.

“I didn’t sign up for _any_ of these shitty activities,” Max says, “and I’m sick to shit of being forced to do them.”

“…Revolution time?”

A sigh. “No Nikki, we tried that last week, it didn’t work.”

“Part two could be better though.”

Max appreciates the thought, honestly, he does. But the last time they revolted, he’s ended up shirtless, fighting back against the man and his other camp mates, because they’d all thought _Erid_ a better leader than him.

Fuck that noise.

“What we need,” he continues, “is to find a way to make the counsellors agree to leave us alone.”

Nikki’s eyes shine, and she jumps forward as she realises what he means. She shakes his shoulders back and forth, ignoring the scowl she receives as Max tries to push her back. “We change the calendar so that every day is Saturday!”

Well – uh, not exactly what he meant, but the sentiment kind of stands. Sure, why the fuck not.

“Make every day Saturday.”

Neil, always the one who questions the plans, says, “I doubt we can just convince people that every day is Saturday.”

Fuck, honestly, Max thinks that they probably could if they came up with a crazy enough story about inter-dimensional time travel, and Groundhog Day. David would probably buy it, because the man’s a fucking _idiot._

Convincing Gwen that the day was just repeating itself wouldn’t be so easy though. What with how often she read those werewolf fanfictions on her phone all the time, she’d go onto her email searching for any updates and immediately know the truth.

Maybe if they found a way to commandeer her phone so she wouldn’t be able to search things all day…?

He needs to stop.

“That’s a mindfuck that can wait,” Max says, “but we so could. No, we get them to leave us alone through _blackmail.”_

If it were anyone else but the kids at camp, talk of blackmail would be met with horror, or confusion. But here, at Camp freaking _Campbell,_ he receives two looks of equal contemplation, considering how easy such a task would be.

It all comes down to blackmailing three people, essentially.

Quartermaster, who they kind of… don’t really need to? He tends to stick to himself, which is always good because Max is pretty sure that the man is a fucking sociopath.

Gwen, who – well, she doesn’t really care enough about the camp, so it’ll be really easy to blackmail her. They can find something easily enough – it’s always simple to narrow down what she cares about, since she doesn’t feign caring about other things.

The person who’ll be the hardest, will be David.

“Does David even have anything that we could blackmail him with though?” Nikki asks, “he’s like, so shiny and bright.”

Max scowls. “Someone like him, is bound to have some things he’s keeping secret from us.”

He still doesn’t believe that someone like that, someone so bright and happy, doesn’t keep things hidden beneath a layer of faux optimism. He’s probably got some fucked up secret that they just need to figure out.

“Maybe,” Neil says, “but it’s David.”

Max crosses his arms as if to say, he doesn’t care. Their new task of the day, is to spy on David and find a way to blackmail and ruin his life. And oh yeah, get the whole Saturday being every day thing put in place.

Honestly, just messing with David seems like it could have been the initial plan, but the others are more likely to help out if there’s a clear reason behind it.

…Well.

Actually, fuck that, he probably could have just said it. Nikki loves anything chaotic, and Max is pretty sure that Neil is still outraged over the lack of a proper lab at the camp.

“We’re going to find a way to fucking blackmail David guys,” Max says, crossing his arms. “And when we do, every day, will be fucking _Saturday.”_

* * *

Which leads them to now, using the other campers as a distraction, some early set disaster as a distraction, so that they can clearly search the counsellors cabin. The place has fucking air con in here.

Max resists the urge to cut the wires of the air con and puts it in mind for later instead. Why the fuck do the counsellors get to be chilled during the evenings when the rest of them are stuck in fucking tents?

Yeah, there’s a bit of a imbalance in the way they’re being treated, and Max isn’t blind to it. This is exactly why he rebels against the man.

“I ask to watch TV and I get told I’m not taking advantage of nature and my surroundings,” Neil says, as he pushes the button, the screen flicking on, greeting them with grey static.

The sound of static is like a bursting explosion, and Max leans forward, past Neil to shut the TV off before anyone hears, before the sound can give them away.

“We’re meant to be being stealthy Neil,” Nikki says, and from her, it seems almost hypocritical. Although – well, she is okay at being stealthy sometimes, he supposes.

“I don’t understand why the sound was turned up so _high though_ ,” Neil says. He pauses, “I mean, your hearing doesn’t go that bad by twenty.”

Who knows, Max thinks. His twenties are an entire lifetime away and he’s not really thinking about the quality of his _hearing._

“Right,” Max says. “But we’re here for blackmail material, not a hearing test Neil, jeez.”

Neil just gives him a look, and says nothing.

But nah, loud TV isn’t a blackmail opportunity. Max reckons that Gwen turns it up so high so she can block out the sound of the camp when she’s not got to deal with them – or even to just block out David.

“Who cares,” Nikki says, and points towards the drawers by each bedside. It’s easy to tell whose side of the room is which based by which side has more sentimental crap in it.

David’s side has a photograph of the camp that’d been taken at the beginning of the summer, everyone lined up and pretending that they were happy to be in the photograph. It’s such a fake photo, but still the man has it framed, on the drawer, beside his alarm clock.

Gwen’s side doesn’t have an alarm clock, but maybe that’s because she’s sane and not a horrible morning person like David is. Always waking them up at ungodly times when quite frankly, he’d much rather they all get to sleep in.

“Nothing blackmail-y yet though,” Nikki says. With little regard for personal space, she pulls open the drawers, rifling through in a way not unlike a raccoon going through the trash.

“We’ll find something,” Max promises, standing beside her to peer into the drawers. Sometimes Nikki overlooks things that aren’t cool, or dangerous, and Max wants to make sure they don’t overlook _anything._

“You keep saying that,” Neil says, “but what if we don’t find any blackmail material?”

Max pauses. Considers it. Then:

“We’ll make blackmail material then.”

Neil nods his head, as if this is perfectly logical, and not simply a _dick move._ Whatever, they want their Saturdays and there’s nothing else to do in this fucked up excuse for a camp anyway.

Max goes to open his mouth, pauses. Then, with the urgency of a thief knowing there’s a cop nearby, he grabs the sleeves of both Nikki and Neil, shoving his friends down and under David’s bed.

Hitting his head as he shuffles under, Neil lets out a small groan. Max resists the urge to tell him to _shut the fuck up,_ since he also, should be shutting the fuck up.

Footsteps echo as the cabin doors swing open. Except, it doesn’t really swing open, but rather, is thrust open with far more energy than necessarily. David then, because Gwen would never open the door with such energy.

David’s voice follows suit.

For some reason, there is a hint of stress – not unhappiness, but an urgency that he shows sometimes, whenever there’s a task he wants to start but they’ve hit time delays. Which is strange, because Max hasn’t ever thought of David as someone who knows what _urgency_ means.

“Of course, I didn’t forget,” David calls, and then, after the door closes, his voice quieter: “Oh dang, I can’t believe I forgot to pick up the flowers.”

Flowers?

Max shares a look between his friends. David doesn’t usually pick _up_ flowers, but rather, heads into the meadows to pick his own. He’d done it when they’d heard one of the women in town were ill, and another time when he’d –

Oh god, he’s totally got a date, right?

David’s a fucking romantic like that, of course he’d want to give someone flowers. God, even if they don’t have any blackmail material this information is gold just by itself. 

Their camp counsellor grabs his phone from his pockets, dials a number and holds it up to his ears. It’s impossible to hear the dial tone from under the bed, so Max reckons he’s going to have to find a way to infer everything from just David’s side of the conversation.

Not that it’s very difficult to do. David doesn’t really hide conversations.

“Oh hi Mr. Foster, it’s David, from Camp Campbell.” There’s a pause, and then, sheepishly, as he rubs the back of his neck, “yeah, I completely forgot the pick up for the bouquet was yesterday, I was caught up with activities–”

Another pause.

“You didn’t hold the bouquet back even the extra da–” David runs a hand through wispy red hair, “yeah, I know you don’t hold them back for customers who don’t pick them up but this is me – you did my wedd-”

Max has to slap a hand over Nikki’s mouth to stop the noise that builds against her tongue. Beside him, Neil leans up to pinch himself. David having had a _wedding_ implies marriage – and who the fuck would marry that asshole?

“No, I know. I know. Can I get a bouquet made quickly then?” Another pause. “I understand it’s extra, but it’ll be our anniversary, and I–”

For a moment, there is silence. Then, a long, relieved silence is breathed into the air, almost like a dying gasp, almost like a gulp of someone who’s forgotten how to inhale.

“You’re the best sir,” David says, “-yeah, if you still have those lilac peonies that we had at the wedding, I just know she’ll love them. Yeah, thanks sir. I’ll pick them up tomorrow morning. No delays this time.”

The phone call must end, because David slips it back into his pocket, takes a moment to smooth out the wrinkles in his shirt.

“That’s all dealt with then,” he says, “now back to today’s activities!”

Max can hardly keep himself quiet for the time it takes David to leave the cabin. He doesn’t know how the others manage it. They wait until the door is closed again, until they hear footsteps fade away into nothingness.

Then, slowly, the three campers slide out from under the bed.

“What the _fuck was that?”_ Max says.

“David never mentioned being married before,” Nikki says, “I wonder if his wife knows how to fight a bear! I’d only marry someone who could fight a bear.”

Neil doesn’t say anything. When Max looks at him, the boy shrugs his shoulders, as if there are no words to decipher how the knowledge has thrown him.

“No, but seriously,” Max continues, crossing his arms. “Who the fuck would marry _David?”_

It looks like they’re going to have to find out.

**Author's Note:**

> Come talk to me on [Tumblr](http://mintchocolateleaves.tumblr.com/)


End file.
